Where the Heart Is
by Xelan
Summary: One summer, Harry visits Hermione's house and meets with her parents. Been done to death, in fact, I've written it a few times myself. Let's change it up a little, shall we? Rated M for safety.


A/N: I hadn't seen this done before, though I'm sure someone else has already thought of it. Here's my take. Any chance Apaidan will grace us with more fiction?

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The visit was both wonderful and uncomfortable. Hermione's mum, Emma, was charming, beautiful, kind, firm when necessary, and had a wicked sense of humor, that Harry liked to imagine would be similar to his own mother's if she had lived. It was wonderful hanging out with Hermione. She relaxed when outside of school and there were just so many things that they could talk about. He supposed it came from their similar backgrounds-they had a common frame of reference. It was nice that he could mention an interest in a telly program and not have to explain what a telly was, for instance. The uncomfortable part came from Dan Granger, Hermione's father.

Never rude, scrupulously polite, but always watching Harry- as if he was judging him against some scale that Harry wasn't privy to. It was, to put it mildly, awkward.

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"While you two prepare lunch, how about Harry and I have a little chat? You'll be heading off tomorrow and there are some things we do need to discuss."

"Dad…" Hermione started.

"Don't worry, Pumpkin, he may very well thank me when all is said and done."

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"Harry, what are you intentions with my little girl?" Dan asked with no preamble.

This was a terrible way to start a friendly conversation. Though Harry had heard the saying, 'It's never as bad as you imagine it,' this was exactly as bad as he'd imagined it or worse. "Uh… well," he hedged. He couldn't exactly come right out and say to the father of the girl he liked, who also happened to be his host for the summer, that he wanted to take his little girl away from him. Well, I suppose he could, but Harry's sense of self preservation is too well developed for that in normal circumstances.

Dan kept right on going. "Because we've only just learned that we need to come up with a dowry and while we haven't been saving for it like most magical families, we both work and do make a tidy sum." He paused momentarily to let what he said sink in. "Now, if you don't need it immediately, and I assure you our credit is excellent, then I'm certain we could come up with a considerable one around the time she turns 17."

"Dowry?" Harry said, desperately trying to keep from stuttering.

"Yes, well, we'd like to make sure Hermione's taken care of and her letters home are around 90 percent about you. Sometimes there are bits about Ron and about a boy named Neville, and every now and then about a few girls we believe she shares dorm with, but we think we would know if our little girl fancied birds over blokes."

The wheels in Harry's mind had slowly started to pick up speed. "So you're all right if I want to date Hermione?"

"Date? You mean you're not her boyfriend already? I would have thought all those coy little glances, kisses to the cheek and forehead, hand holding, and many daily hugs meant you'd already been dating for some time now."

"Oh, that," he said humbly. "Well, we've always been affectionate, I suppose. I remember once she nearly bowled me over after the whole basilisk incident ended." Harry smiled broadly as he remembered how wonderful it was to have her back after her petrifaction. We're close, if you understand me, though we haven't actually been on a date or kissed properly- I was going to wait on your permissions before I tried to go any further."

"That's kind of you Harry, a little old fashioned, but then again betrothals and their requisite dowries are evidently still in fashion in the wizarding world, so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

Harry straightened his already perfectly straight glasses to give his hands something to do.

"Tell me, Harry, if my daughter isn't dating you, is she so affectionate with anyone else?"

Harry thought hard for a moment. "No… I suppose not."

"Excellent! Then back to the original question. Are you interested in becoming betrothed?

"As in, to be married?" Harry asked, wanting to be sure.

"Yes, that's what the term means."

"To Hermione?"

"I've only the one daughter, Harry. Unless… you're already betrothed to someone else?" A tinge of uncertainty had crept into Dan Granger's voice. "It would break Hermione's heart."

"No SIR! I mean, I-I don't think so. I've never really checked."

"That's a relief. I was worried I'd have to find a way to contact that Neville boy, or if all else failed, that Ron fellow."

"Ron's a good guy." Harry volunteered loyally.

"I'm sure he is, but can you honestly tell me he's the best choice for Hermione?

Harry didn't need time to think, the answer came straight from his heart, bypassing the brain entirely."Not at all."

"Better and better. You know, I suppose I've never quite forgiven him for inflicting his father on me. Have you ever been interrogated over the purpose a rubber duck in public?"

"Not in public, no…"

Dan grinned. "But you have experienced the Rubber Duck Inquisition. Then you can understand at least some of my shame and embarrassment. Trust me, in public it's an even more terrible thing to do to a bloke."

"No one expects the Rubber Duck Inquisition." Harry managed with a straight face, but immediately after, he started to snigger.

Dan clapped him on the back and chuckled right along with him. If he had been plagued by doubts before, they were all erased with that one beautiful reference.

Getting themselves back under control, Dan asked, "So you ARE interested in the betrothal?

"Yes," Harry answered without hesitation.

"Excellent. We can discuss the particulars later if that's all right with you, but unless we aren't able to come to an agreement in the particulars, shall we say it's a done deal and shake on it?"

Harry extended a hand. "That's fine."

They shook.

"Then for the time being, Harry, my boy, I'd like you to consider this your home until you have one of your own and Emma and I have discussed it and since you're going to be our son-in-law, then you may as well call us Mum and Dad just like Hermione does".

"A home… Mum, Dad?"

"Yes, we thought it only proper. Would you like us to call you Harry or something else?"

Harry thought a moment. This was all happening so fast. "Maybe we could give calling me 'son' a test run and see how it fits?"

"Works for me, _Son_."

"Thanks, _Dad_."

Dan left the study to get some drinks to toast their new arrangement.

Harry, completely blown away by what had just transpired here, slapped himself to convince himself it was real. It hurt… he realized. He really had just been offered Hermione's hand in marriage by her parents. He'd been invited into their family. He. Had. A. Home. He couldn't stop smiling! "This is home. I have a home!" He spoke the words aloud, albeit, in a quiet and then more enthusiastic whisper.

Far away, the wards around Privet drive dropped at the same instant Harry recognized another building as his home. Those same wards instantly reappeared around the Granger home- their strength trebled, their potency increased to phenomenal levels.

The Dursleys died that night. A fire was the cause and the entire neighborhood was in shock at how quickly Number Four was ablaze and how completely it burned. Suffice it to say, no one got out alive.

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"He took it really well- agreed to everything right off the bat. We even shook on it."

Emma collapsed on the chesterfield. "I'm so relieved."

Dan breathed a sigh of relief. "Think of it, Emm, we're not losing our daughter, we're gaining a son." He looked genuinely happy about the prospect.

"He's a nice boy. I predict they'll do well together."

Dan snorted. "They've done well enough so far."

"Not angry you didn't get to do the overprotective father bit?"

"That only applies if you're losing a daughter. We were going to lose her to the magical world if we did anything else. This way, Harry will become a part of our family. I can't see a downside." He leaned back and put his feet up on his desk. He was aware it irked his wife, but at this very moment, he didn't care. He was content.

"By the by, Dan…"

"Yes, Love?"

"What did Hermione say when you told her we were planning to betroth her to her best friend?"

"…"

Emma abruptly sat straight up. "You DID ask her, didn't you?"

The door slammed open with phenomenal force and in stalked Hermione.

"Mum, Dad," she said in an utterly calm voice, "I think we need to talk."

Emma looked from her husband to her daughter and then back again. "I'll take that as a no."

Dan whimpered slightly.

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-Shortly after the wards failed-

"Bloody hell!" cried Mundungus Fletcher as he dove for cover, up-ending the wheelbarrow and scurrying away with it on his back like a turtle. The flames had risen up so fast; he hadn't even seen them start. He'd smelled smoke and been looking around. All he could figure was maybe the still Vernon kept in the tool shed in the back garden had blown, or maybe it was that muggle potions lab their son Dudley was always playing around with in the basement (he always seemed so much nicer after he spent some time in his lab, or could even have been the cans of turpentine and bags of fertilizer in the garage. He idly wondered if the many bags of flour he'd spotted in the pantry for the neighborhood bake-off might have contributed, but who ever heard of a flour explosion?

So caught up in his own musings, he never even noticed the dark clad figures standing off to the side. In fact, it would take the arrival of the muggle fire department, the rousing of half the neighborhood, and the vigorous shaking and shouting at by Arabella Figg demanding to know what happened, where were the Dursleys and was Harry safe, for Mundungus to realize Harry Potter's home had burned down on his watch.

"Bloody hell…" he mumbled before falling down in a dead faint.

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The death eaters were confused. They'd recently learned where Harry Potter lived when he wasn't protected by the fortress that was Hogwarts. While some grey haired busybodies might think that Death Eaters had nothing better to do than hunt down and attempt to slaughter the child that had been the downfall of their master, the fact of the matter is that once they were well and truly sure he was gone, they were relieved. They had no problem with a little bit of constructive Muggle Baiting, the odd raping and torture of muggle borns, these were as natural to them as breathing. What they didn't care for was being tortured by their master until blood oozed out of their eyes. Not that they would ever admit it out loud.

With their master gone, they were free to take up their pastimes much the same way their forefathers had done for generations and more importantly, they were their own masters once more… for now. Paying lip service among each other, lest we forget the Dark Mark wasn't gone, merely faded, they knew he wasn't gone for good, but he may possibly be gone long enough that if wouldn't matter if he did come back because his marked followers would have long expired from old age.

It is quite understandable that even if they could never admit it, they were somewhat grateful to the Boy Who Lived. That all changed the end of Draco's second year, when Lucius had been dismissed from his position on the Hogwarts Board of Governors, and some sort of vendetta had sprung up. They hadn't reached a consensus, but many among the old inner circle suspected it was more than losing his position. Some thought he'd been smacked down by Potter and now wanted revenge.

Dolohov had found it funny how much gold Lucius had spent trying to find the boy to teach him a lesson, but oddly, no one at the ministry seemed to know anything. Then Nott Sr. had come up on the idea of checking the underage magic offender registry. It took time as their parchment work was months behind, but they'd found him. Lucius was quite chagrined to learn that their dark marks reacted quite poorly to whatever ward scheme the old fool had implemented. They'd spent the better part of Draco's third year trying to breach the wards with little success. That is, until today.

Instantly alerted that the wards had fallen, they appeared in strength and in full regalia ready to burn, torture, possibly rape, and definitely make an example of the green eyed Potter brat, only to discover the building already in flames- hence the confusion.

Not ones to come all the way for nothing, they sealed the house as best they could, though the flames were rapidly making their efforts useless. There really wasn't any point on setting the burning building on fire anymore than it made sense to set the sun on fire. So disappointed were they that they completely miss the up-turned wheelbarrow scurrying away. They didn't even have it in them to send up the mark to advertise their presence.

Thus ended the most recent attempt to organize the remaining Death Eaters; not with a bang, but with a whimper.

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TBC


End file.
